


Five Times The Big Four celebrated Christmas

by My_King_And_Your_Lionheart



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (2010), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_King_And_Your_Lionheart/pseuds/My_King_And_Your_Lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times the Big Four waited up for Santa Claus, and the first time they celebrated it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times The Big Four celebrated Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FMB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FMB/gifts).



> This is my Secret Santa present for nothinghereisvegeterian, and I hope you like it! First fic on Ao3.  
> All mistakes are indeed mine, although the characters aren't. Idea is also mine, but the characters are not.

_**Rapunzel** _

Long golden hair created a trail that, had any been awake to follow it, would have led to a young child in a small, circular room. This little girl was sitting on a small wooden stool in front of an empty fireplace. To her left was a small tree, more of a sapling really, decorated with homemade clay and fabric ornaments. On her right were several trays of cookies that she had made with some missing a bite or two. It was the night before Christmas and the little girl was, as most little kids do, waiting for Saint Nicholas. There was a sparse layer of presents on the floor, all of which were from her mother, Gothel. She had no other friends (besides her chameleon Pascal, but he couldn’t very well get here a gift, now could he?) so there was no one she could have the joy of making gifts for, as her mother politely declined every offer of one.

            So she sat there, as the stars came out in their glittering blanket and the night settled in, waiting for the gift-giver to come. In this small, stifling prison of a room, her belief was all she had left. Suddenly, there was a clatter of something on the rooftops. Jumping to her tiny feet, the child climbed clumsily onto the windowsill opposite the chimney, trying to see over the roof’s overhang. Behind her, an older gentlemen, with rosy cheeks and a large midsection landed on the hearthstone silently. Clad in a bright red suit, he was lucky the girl didn’t turn around, otherwise he most certainly would’ve been seen. As it was, he managed to retrieve several neatly wrapped boxes out of the sack he had brought with him, still unseen by the youngling. The problem arose when he decided to grab a cookie, which crunched when he bit into it, alerting the girl of his presence. Spinning where she stood, her small nightgown fluttering at her heels.

Gasping, she cried out, “St. Nicholas!” and the old man’s eyes widened, like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar(which he kind of had been). Composing himself quickly he replied with a jolly,

“Rapunzel, dear, what are you still doing up?” The little girl flushed, knowing from stories that you weren’t supposed to stay up on Christmas, but she had wanted to see this man of legend.

“I- I wanted to see you! Mother said you weren’t real, but I knew you were!” St. Nicholas laughed, being used to non-believing parents. “It was my dream to meet you!” The old man chuckled again, and herded Rapunzel back to her bed.

“It’s time to sleep, malen'kaya devochka1, and when you wake in the morning, be filled with the wonder of Christmas.

 

 

_**Merida** _

            “Get back to bed, Hamish! You too, Harris! Jeez, will all of you just stay in bed!” Merida was at her wits end trying to get her three little brothers back into their bed. She was old enough to be responsible, and definitely old enough to not believe in such silly things as Father Christmas. She was attempting to get her younger siblings to calm down enough to go to sleep, but they wanted to stay up and wait for the jolly old man. They still believed in him, and her mother had said to her daughter that it was important that they keep their belief. Merida didn’t understand, she had been around their age when she discovered that Father Christmas wasn’t real, why should they be kept in the dark. However, she held her tongue, for she knew if she told them, they would run to their mother, and that was an argument she really didn’t feel like having on Christmas.

            Beginning to sing a lullaby to the somewhat calm triplets, her eyes strayed about the room. There was a small tree, decorated with silver shavings and glass ornaments, with some small parcels lying at the base. In the fireplace beside it there was a roaring fire to scare away the chill night air. The boys had been worried that the fire might scare away Father Christmas as well, but their mother only said that since the man was magical, the fire could hurt him no more than a fly could. Then, of course, Hamish had went on to say that if the fly was carrying disease, it could hurt someone very much. Mother had let the conversation drop afterwards.

            Trailing off from the song, she looked back towards the bed, only to see that the three rascals were still wide awake, and staring at the fireplace, waiting for the man that wouldn’t come. “Ah well then. If you’ll stay awake until he comes, you’ll be up all night! Don’t say I didn’t warn yah!” Turning to go, Merida nearly tripped over her own skirts when Hubert cried out.

            “Father Christmas!” Merida looked back at him, then at the fireplace, where all three of them were staring intently. Looking, she saw nothing out of place, or something there that shouldn’t have been.

            “There’s no one there!” she shouted at them. Still, they squealed on, rising from the bed and going to crowd around a space where the imagined man supposedly stood. Merida yawned, rubbing at her eyes, and when she reopened them her eyes alighted on a pile of gifts that she was certain had not been there before. Surely, this wasn’t an elaborate prank from her brothers. There must have been someone there. Shaking her head at the nonsense, she turned back towards the door. As she was leaving, out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw the shine of black leather boots disappear up the chimney, and her heart filled with wonder.

****

 

_**Jack** _

            Jackson Overland Frost was in the backyard of his house, chopping at wood on a block. Their supply next to the fireplace was running low, and he didn’t want to be caught without any wood on Christmas.  He was almost finished with the small pile. Chopping through the last log, Jackson collected as much as he could carry, kicking the door open, then closing it behind him with another sharp kick. He set the wood down in a pile next to his sister’s door, which was closest to the main room, and looked inside the room, unsurprised to find the bed empty. He turned to face the fireplace, still burning on the hearth and caught sight of his sister, asleep on one of their worn armchairs. Picking her up bridal style, he carried her back to her own bed. Placing her gently underneath the covers he grabbed a few pieces of wood and went to go start a fire in her small fireplace. It took him several tries, as the flint sparks just wouldn’t catch.

            “Never wants to work for me,” he mumbled, half-laughing, to himself. His little sister could light a fire faster than he could for crying out loud! Jackson then made a grab for the candle, and used that to light the fire. Putting it back, he sat on the bed beside his sister. “Staying up for him again, little sister?”

He was about to douse the candle still flickering on the table when he heard a small “Oomph!” coming from the  main room. Walking back cautiously, he grabbed one of the spare logs from the doorway. Hefting it over his head, he strode into the room, only to drop the log onto his own head moments later from surprise. “F-Father Christmas?” The old legend spun, startled by the older voice, proof he still had a teenaged believer. In fact, the old Russian was surprised by the boy’s age- 18 years old and still believing in old Nicholas St. North? However, he always gave whoever saw him a special gift, one just for them, even if he didn’t know why he was packing them when he first took off. It was just a feeling he got. And with this boy, it was as if the Man in the Moon himself spoke to the legend as he pulled out two sets of ice skates. They were simple, only leather, fur and the blade, but he knew it would be perfect for the siblings.

“For you,” he said, his voice gruff from misuse. Jackson flailed wildly for a second in wonder, surprise written all over his face. He had wanted a pair of skate for himself and his sister, but the village didn’t make any pairs sturdy enough for everyday use. These, however, looked as if they could’ve lasted a lifetime on ice.

“Th-Thank you!” Jack took the skates with a nervous exhalation of air. Deciding the sentiment wasn’t enough, he leaped at Father Christmas, his skinny arms not wrapping around the old gentleman exactly, but the Guardian laughed jovially anyway, enclosing his own arms around the boy, crushing the child to himself. After a time, they separated. The fire, it seemed had gone out, but Jackson had never felt warmer

“Tis nothing! Now go to sleep! Tell little sister story in morning, yes?”

“O-Of course!” And with that, Father Christmas strode to the fireplace, laid a finger aside his nose, and was gone.

Looking out the window at the disappearing sleigh, Jackson looked back to the skates Father Christmas had gifted them. Glancing at the lake beside his house he decided that he and his little sister would go skating tomorrow. The ice looked safe enough, anyway.

****

 

**_Hiccup_ **

            A small Viking boy sat in front of the Snoggletog tree, waiting for Odin to come, so he could talk to the god. Hiccup just had a few questions to ask him, like why he wasn’t Viking like at all! It was embarrassing to his father, Stoick, and the rest of the village made fun of him all the time. The gods made him this way, and you know what, he wanted to know why!

            He was waiting for a long time, with nothing to do but draw in the dirt and look at his surroundings. The tree itself was huge, easily a house or two tall, and was almost as wide as the Hall opening. The bottom branches were heavily decorated and the metal ornaments were few and far between nearing the top. Hiccup tried to look for the ornament he had made, which was a twisted metal scrap that was vaguely in the shape of the dragon. Stoick had sighed, and then let him put it on the tree, but Hiccup knew he had disappointed them all, again. Why, oh why couldn’t he get _something_ right???  Even what he wanted for Snoggletog was sure to disappoint his dad: a dragon figurine. Sure, dragons attacked the village and stole their livestock, but they gotta live somehow, right? Hiccup knew that if he was presented with the opportunity, he probably wouldn’t be able to kill a dragon. He just didn’t have it in him.

            Hiccup started to doze as he sat there, but the jingling of bells woke him sharply. Lifting his gaze to the sky, Hiccup saw a gleaming wooden sleigh, painted in a bright red stain and glaze. Pulling the sleigh through the air were eight huge reindeer, galloping on the air. The sleigh landed on the ground with a thud, sliding a little on the ever-present ice in the square. The man that then climbed out of the sleigh was most certainly NOT Odin.

            “I don’t mean to be rude,” he started, “But who are you?” The old man spun around and Hiccup saw that he had a full white beard, red cheeks, a red suit, and tattoos running up his arms. Hiccup also thought they said “Naughty” and “Nice”. Who on Earth was this man?

            “I am Nicholas St. North! And who might you be?” The jolly old man was quite startled. Barely anyone ever stayed up for him, especially after Sanderson’s dream sand passed through the sleeping countries. Hiccup stuttered out his name, then demanded to know where Odin was. “Well, who is this Odin fellow? He is late! It is no matter. I have something special for you!” With a flourish, Nicholas St. North pulled an intricate wooden carving out of his sack. It was a dragon, sleek and black, withholding no details for its small size. Hiccup couldn’t fathom how the old man had known what he wanted; he had kept that to himself! But there it was! Hiccup couldn’t feel anything but wonder, staring at this large man who was presenting him with something with an amount of happiness that would have surpassed the shame his father felt when he looked at him.  “Just remember, Hiccup, everyone is the way they are for a reason. Yours will come soon enough.” And with that he finished unpacking, then left, glancing back only to wave at the dumbfounded youngster, who stood, rooted in place, until the sleigh was out of sight.

 

 

**_Their first Christmas_ **

            “Move your hair Rapunzel, I keep tripping”

“Oh shut it, Jack- you can fly!”

“I am! Your hair is just _alive_. And it’s out to get me, I swear!”

“Ahh, get over it Jackie!”

“Merida! How many times have I told you- DON’T CALL ME JACKIE!” The whole group laughed at the winter spirit’s outburst, and were promptly shivering from the chill air that had snuck its way in, lifting Jack higher over the scene. “You too, Hiccup?” Jack glared at the laughing Viking, “My own boyfriend won’t even stand up for me?” Hiccup laughed again

            “Nope! You’re on your own for this one, _Jackie_.” Once again, the room was filled with laughter and Jack drifted back down to his friends. You can’t win everything, he thought, and when you do, it’s not as fun as losing to them. Using his staff, he started a light snowfall from a smallish cloud on the ceiling. He looked back at his friends, so much more than he had ever had for the past three hundred years. Most of them, for their time as spirits, had had their animal companions. Merida her horse, Rapunzel her- something, and Hiccup had his dragon. Jack hadn’t had anyone to see him. The wind pushed him over roughly, and he stumbled straight into Bunny. Jack stuttered out an apology, half scolding the wind’s actions, half frightened for his life, on Christmas of all days! The pooka laughed it off, grabbing the teen into a hug.

            “It’s Christmas, yah gumby! I won’t yell today.”  Tooth’s tinkling laugh echoed through the hall at Jack’s exclamation of surprise, and Sandy was silent, but they could tell he was laughing too. North was missing, and none of the Guardians knew where he was but, hey, it was Christmas, and it was his holiday. He was probably still delivering presents. Everything in the dining hall, where they were celebrating, was decorated by North and the yetis, and was really quite beautiful. The Guardian of Wonder had really outdone himself this year, but then, Tooth said that every year.

            Suddenly, North appeared, as he appeared in every other house. He came down the chimney, the fire somehow not burning him, and stepped onto the hearth stones in front of the fire. “Merry Christmas!!!” The rest of the attendees laughed, caught by surprise (even though they really should have seen that coming).

            “Where is the music? It is CHRISTMAS! Let us celebrate!” Jack shook out of his funk, stretching, only to have his hands brush something hanging over his head. Mistletoe. He looked at the person standing next to him, and flushed, the red standing out starkly against his pale skin. There was no way he was going to kiss Hiccup, not with everyone there. “You know traditions, Jack! You must!” Stuttering, Jack tried to get out of it, hopeful as Hiccup had still not noticed, but was caught but the elves, who were crowding him closer to the unsuspecting Viking. With a final push, Jack’s lips collided with the back of Hiccup’s head, and the boy turned to look at the winter spirit.

            “They did it!” Jack pointed at the elves accusingly. “I wasn’t going to, cause I didn’t think you wanted to but-” the winter spirit was cut off as Hiccup grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and pulled on him. Their lips met evenly, and they kissed for what seemed like a long amount of time. Pulling back, Hiccup smiled.

            “There. Now, do you still think I didn’t want to?” Rapunzel laughed, and Merida pushed Hiccup forward into Jack’s arms.

            “Get a room the both of yah!” All the girls and North laughed, with even Bunnymund looking amused. Jack laughed as well, after a moment, and helped Hiccup stand again. They went back to decorating the tree, but brushed hands more often, or stood closer together. “All right you lot, it’s present time!” The exchange went fairly well, considering there were four immortal teenagers there. Jack had made out with new clothes, a book on different fractal designs, and a pair of shoes. Hiccup had received a dragon whistle, a new attachment for his missing leg, and a hand-knitted vest. Merida got a new dress, an unbreakable comb (so said North) and a new fletching kit. Rapunzel had been gifted a new dress as well as slippers, plus a new frying pan (her old one had a few too many dents in it).

            It was decided that, however, none of the material items they had been given would amount to what they felt when they were together. They had a strong bond, and after all that had been lost by the four young spirits, it was a sorely needed feeling. After the food had been eaten and the songs sung, the four teens curled up together by the fire, tangled in a nest of blankets and pillows. It was a sight to behold, with Jack spooning Hiccup, who had his arm thrown around Rapunzel, who was facing him, and Merida, who was hugging the younger girl from behind. Wrapped up in each other, the older Guardians realized  with a wonder they had scarcely felt before that these teens were more than the sum of their parts. Together, they were a family.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1: Russian for 'little girl'


End file.
